


Prey

by slashxmistress



Series: Prey [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashxmistress/pseuds/slashxmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>His body bears the marks of Dallon’s possession like badges of honor.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Prey

**Author's Note:**

> beta: aerogroupie on livejournal  
> Written for kink_bingo "biting/bruises"

Hotel nights were such a relief. Not that Brendon didn’t love cruising around in a tour bus with his best buds, but they were always in each other’s space. Okay, so Brendon didn’t have much need for personal space as it was, but still. Some nights he needed a break from it all. He needed to _not_ be in such close physical proximity with everyone. This was one of those nights.

This was definitely one of those nights.

Brendon pressed his thumb into the center of the bruise and felt white hot pain shimmer under his skin. He closed his eyes and he could remember the feel of Dallon’s mouth, sucking, drawing the blood to the surface, and then biting so hard it made Brendon keen. Dallon’s eyes had gotten a dark, hungry look in them, and Brendon was his prey.  
He felt a moment of panic when Dallon bit down again and pushed him to the floor. But his mind, and body, quickly surrendered. There was no finesse, no foreplay, just Dallon pushing, pushing, forcing inside and Brendon had thrashed against the pain, panting for _more, more, more_ , even as he cried out in agony. He shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t need this, in all good reasoning he should stop this, but his body said submit, submit, submit.

Later Dallon’s eyes had glowed every time they caught a glimpse of the scattered marks and bruises. He’d taken to touching them as he walked by just to watch Brendon shudder. Spencer glanced at him knowingly, but no one else seemed to notice.

Tonight on stage Dallon had stalked him like a lion with a gazelle. A poke here, a tap there. Then Brendon had leaned in to share a mic and Dallon had flung an arm around him and clamped down hard on his shoulder, digging into the bite mark and Brendon had paled and felt his knees buckle, but somehow kept his composure.

Now he stands and gazes in the mirror, still steamy from his shower. His body bears the marks of Dallon’s possession like badges of honor. He traces them all -- the large bite on his shoulder, the smaller, lighter bites across his chest, the scratches on his stomach, the deep purple finger marks on his hips, and fights the urge to go look for Dallon. To find his room and beg him to take him again, to lay down and grovel at his feet like a bitch in heat.

How pathetic is it that the mere thought had his cock straining and interested, even though he just jerked off in the shower fifteeen minutes ago? He’s still sore from the last round with Dallon and he wants it again. _Craves_ it. But he doesn’t want to admit his weakness.

If Dallon knew the power he had over him...

Spencer will be wanting his shower. Brendon had already pushed his patience far enough by grabbing it first. With a sigh he opens the door and walks out into the room to see...

Dallon.

Dallon’s eyes are hungry and Brendon knows that he is prey.


End file.
